


The Loudest Sound

by 3amepiphany



Series: The Boutique AU [2]
Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: M/M, Multi, The Boutique AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5761408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3amepiphany/pseuds/3amepiphany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Wander, Monday came too soon; and as Monday's go, it's a doozy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Loudest Sound

**Author's Note:**

> I kept it going. I mean, I know it's kind of doing its own thing now, but like. It's going. As life does. Sometimes a good weekend's afterglow is all you can hang onto when the new work week starts up again with a wrenching screech. Is this chaptered story or a serial work, I am just not sure. That will sort itself out eventually, I imagine.

“I started seein’ someone else.”

“Wander, who am I going to get to bring me a latte before my 10am on Mondays now?”

He smiled, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I meant I went out with someone over the weekend. I’m seein’ them again this weekend for an actual date.”

Dr. Jones looked at Wander quietly for a moment, obviously trying to figure out what to ask next. And Wander knew, already. He sipped at his own cup of tea and waited, a leg bouncing up and down. “I wasn’t going to ask about the black eye and your fat lip, but now I feel like I have to.”

“You can, it’s alarmin’, innit?”

“It is.” Jones sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers together under nose; his turn to wait.

“It was a bar fight.”

“Big isn’t the word I want to use when I say you’re taking strides.”

“Okay. So Sylvia set me up with her coworker. At first I wasn’t too sure about it and put it off for as long as I could handle but then I made an impulsive decision and went with it, thinkin’, I should, I should, it’s been too long. We hung out, went to his roommate’s concert, and had a really, _really_ good time. Overheard some guy bein’ devilishly belligerent to an acquaintance of ours, and opened my own mouth about it - before I knew it he tumped me like a wheelbarrow full of wet dirt.” When he saw Jones make a face, he saved him the question and rephrased that last bit. “I got walloped. Good. Sorry, Al, I’m finally feelin’ a little anxious about it now. You know how I get.”

“But you didn’t feel that way after the incident?”

“No, the roommate came to my defense and Peepers kept at my elbow all night after the mess of it like a gentleman and even treated me and Sylvia to breakfast after all was said and done. It didn't even entirely register until I rolled out of bed yesterday. He felt really bad about things goin’ south like that, so suddenly. Wasn’t even his fault. Wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. Not even the guy what hit me.” 

“Scale your anxiety out for me.”

Wander scratched at his face a little, then at the back of his head. He was starting to sink behind the wide collar of his sweater. “...A 3. I talked the club owner out of pressing charges, and I won’t be, either.”

“Wander,” his colleague started, but then he paused. He could feel the shaking from all of the restless leg movement - his chair was rocking a bit. “Peepers is his name?”

“Yes.” Wander played at his lip with his tongue gingerly for a moment. “He’s a band manager when he’s not pullin’ shifts at the store. We only ever really talked through the doorway and not a whole lot outside-a that, but he’s kinda handsome. Around my height so we see… uh… we’re pretty eye-to-eye and he doesn’t shy away from solid contact when he’s talkin’. Real smart by the sound of it, too. Clever on top of book-learnt, you know? I figured Syl is good at judgin’ character and I put enough trust in her with it, so why not?” 

“I’m going to ask something critical here, and I’ll understand if it upsets you but I need an honest answer. You’re not doing this for Sylvia’s sake?”

“I… don’t think it’s the primary reason.” He sat there quietly, then, he sort of steeled himself for the full answer and said, “Truth be told, she is really good with my self-interest and I love her for it. But no, I am the primary reason. I don’t think big is the best word, either. ....He asked me if I had much of an idea of what he and Syl do at work all day and I said that I didn’t, and I thought I’d change that. I went into the shop. I went in and it was sort of like turnin’ on the light in a dark room after hearing a noise. Shinin’ a flashlight under the bed or into the closet. But. Well. The monster is still there, it’s just that you can see it clearly and deal with it better.”

“Grop, I’ve seen some of the magazines there, but which ones am I overlooking?”

“You’re ruining the moment,” Wander said, a wry but sincere smile finally back on his face again.

“My clock is, too.” Dr. Jones got up and out of his chair, and stretched his arms. “Are you going to be okay for the week? Today?”

Wander sighed and nodded; his leg hadn’t quite stopped bouncing, though. “I ought to be. If I--”

“If you need me, just give the office a call and come on down, I’ll free up a spot for you as best as I can. Are you sure I can’t send you off with something?” He came around the backside of his desk and opened a drawer, shuffling around inside it for a moment.

“Oh, no, no. It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I can do without, thank you.” Wander hurriedly stood and grabbed at his backpack, and made his way to the door. “Nice… Nice bow-tie, by the way. Is that one new? It brings out the whorls in your eyes.”

Jones tossed a pill pack on the desk and shut the drawer. “You like it? It’s new, Miss Moneyhenny picked it out for me.”

“She has good taste.”

“Be sure to let her know that on your way out, will you? It’ll make her day. Oh, and uh, Wander?”

He stopped, his tea halfway to his mouth and his hand already on the doorknob. “Yes, Al?”

“...I just want you to know that I ask you about these,” he gestured to the little pack, “because it’s an option. Slowing down is an option. Alright? Eating more protein or splitting the cost of sticky rollers with me to save my couch after your sessions--also a couple of options. I’m serious.” His grin was big, toothy, and seriously ridiculous.

“Thanks,” he said, nodding.

Wander was sure to thank Jones’ secretary profusely for coming in early enough to see him taken care of, and complimented her fashion sense. The Cluckon chuckled and ruffled her feathers demurely and said she’d always liked plaid on the doctor and was glad to hear that someone else did, too. He made an appointment for the following Monday morning, thanked her again and wished her a good day, and headed out to get to his own office upstairs.

Galactica was unlocking the door as he rounded the corner out of the elevator. “Good morning, Wa- _woah_. Good _morning_.”

“Hah, mornin’. I brought some fresh ground coffee, and a few of those cookies you like from that cafe near my place.”

“Wander, what… how did, how was your weekend?” She shrugged out of her coat and set about straightening their small waiting room as she did every morning, and he took a moment to fish the coffee and the cookies out of his backpack. He handed Galactica her treat, started the coffee pot, and watched her defiantly avoid looking at him.

He answered, finally, with a smile, “I had a night out.”

“My list of questions just doubled.”

“Go ahead.”

“I suppose I should just ask you if you had fun?” She sat at her desk and booted up the computer, and took a moment to ensure that her hair was alright.

He held his mug under the coffee machine’s funnel instead of putting the carafe under it. “I did. I also have a date this weekend.”

“Are they cute?”

“Cute enough to take a hit for, I think.” She gave him a look that said he was definitely going to have to spill more, later, and then excused himself to set up his office for his first client before they arrived.

He’d just finished putting a fresh box of crayons out on the table in the middle of the room when there was a knock at the door, and a “Good morning,” from the client’s caseworker. The client looked as small and frail as usual, holding their caretaker’s hand and hiding just slightly behind them a bit. Wander greeted them warmly and welcomed them in, and took a moment to speak with the caretaker about how the last week was in the child’s world. No big changes, nothing jarringly bad, just that looming court date for possession - and still nothing from the child that could be used in court to protect them.

He sat down on the floor, back against the plush chair and legs crossed, and gestured to the big bag of colorful plastic tubing before taking a couple of them out himself and hitting them on the edge of the table, gently. They were uneven with one another and made hollow notes, one low and the other sharp, but complementary. The banjo wasn’t soft enough for this client to enjoy listening to and he needed something they could engage with as well, and he was fast running out of options. The young one’s caretaker gave them a reassuring pat on the shoulder and told them they’d be outside, like always, and he knew that they’d been staring at his face since he greeted them in the doorway. The child had given him a quick glance, but then looked away at the floor, the walls, the plants. Now, though, the door closed and the caseworker gone and that authoritative barrier gone away with them, the child stared, too.

He batted the tubes again and smiled. “Let’s play with these. Each one makes a different note. Wanna grab one? A color you like, maybe? You could have either of these ones, too.”

They nodded and came to sit down, but not across from him - right next to him, a slow movement of blue feathers and twitching whiskers, and a quiet, tired sigh. Looking at the bag for a moment, they leaned forward and grasped at a tube with their little hands and pulled it towards them. They knocked it against the floor a couple of times, and were pleased with the tone. Eventually the two of them were hitting the tables, the couch, the chair, and even used more of the tubes to try to play a simple song.

After about half an hour of this, Wander asked if it was a good time for a break, and maybe a juice box. The child nodded, and kept playing, and he got up to go get the juice from the mini-fridge in the corner. The sound of tubes bouncing on the carpet was soft and slow, and then it stopped.

“Did your mommy hit you too?” came the quiet question.

He almost dropped the juice boxes.

He dropped the keys in the hallway trying to unlock the door to his apartment, hours later. They jingled as they fell and crashed against the old hardwood floor, echoing down the hallway. Worried that Sylvia would be napping, he hastily picked them up and tried again.

Sylvia opened the door before he could even get the right key in the lock. “Such heavy footsteps up the stairwell, buddy,” she said, wooden spoon in hand and her hair a wild mess. “I’ve got dinner going, come on.” His surprise melted and he gave her a weary smile, and made his way inside.

“Did you get any rest today?” he asked, putting his backpack next to the table in their living room and pulling some small bags from the grocery out of it. One of them was filled with gummy treats, and he opened it up and started snacking from it. Sylvia took the other bags and set them on the counter to put away shortly, then went back to stirring whatever was bubbling away on the stove. It smelled really good. He sidled up against her and leaned, a gummy hanging lazily from his mouth.

“I got enough. I hope it’s another while before I need to switch a shift and work a weekend like that again. But I can’t wait to get back into bed tonight. Jeff needs me a little early tomorrow morning to help with an incoming shipment. Some new line he ordered at the convention last month.”

“Oh?”

“Ethically-sourced leather goods,” she said, ruffling his hair a bit.

“That sounds fake, but okay, tell me more.”

She hesitated. “Tell you more?” He nodded. “Um, well. Collars. Crops. Harnesses. This is weird.” She looked down at him and he looked up at her. “Yeah, this is super weird. How about we wait until after dinner to talk about this stuff? How was your day? You look beat.”

“I think a parent is going to jail,” he said, and that was it. He ate another treat.

“I shouldn’t ask you to tell me more, should I?”

He shook his head. The gummy shook about with him. The situation was a lot worse than he thought it’d be, and very suddenly and quickly he found himself elevated to the position of advocacy for his little client come the court date. He spent most of his lunch break locked in the restroom, and Galactica took it upon herself to order him a hot lunch of brothy barley soup from the deli down the block, and didn’t press to continue their conversation about his weekend.

They dished up their meal and put a movie on, and sat on the floor to eat. She washed the dishes while he dried them, and they both poured the grains and beans Wander had picked up from the store into the storage containers they kept in the pantry. They gravitated back into the front room with mugs of tea, put on another film, and lay on the couch. 

Wander sat up after a bit to finally shrug and wiggle out of his sweater, and his mug was cool enough for him to hold up to his poor, unsightly eye.

“Peepers asked about you when he got in this morning,” Sylvia said after he settled back down, curling her tail around him. He made a sound that indicated he wanted to know more. “You guys didn’t get a whole lot of personal talk in, did you?”

“Not really.”

“If I’m wrong in trying to get the two of you together, you’ll tell me, right? You won’t keep trying to make it work for my sake, or for his, will you?”

He took such a long pause in reflecting on what Dr. Jones had asked him that morning that she had to tap him gently on the hand to bring him back around to her. He didn’t jump, he just sort of looked down at her hand and then up at her, tiredly. “I’m sorry, Syl, I’m sorry. I’ll be sure to say it. I know where you’re comin’ from about it.”

It was the conversation they’d had so many times before, so many times that they didn’t even need to have it, just hint at it, and that would be enough.

Wander sat there, though, wondering if this was her trying to protect him, by setting him up with someone she knew and trusted, and someone that she could easily handle if any lines were crossed.

He thought back to the first time she’d introduced him to Peepers at the store, he came up to the door to see who she was talking to out of curiosity, and she’d turned to him and said, “This is Wander, he’s a real dollop of sunshine. You’ll never meet anyone with a heart as big as his.” She didn’t push it from the onset, of course, she needed the time to get to know Peepers, and that was difficult because outside of work he was busy with his other job, and out of town, and generally just the kind of person who would keep most others at arms’ length. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but eventually it seemed that the two of them got comfortable enough to develop a rapport despite it. Sylvia liked him a lot; she said it was because they were so alike and they understood one another easily.

“But, he’s kind of a nerd, honestly though,” she said of Peepers, when she was trying to talk up Wander the first time. “Like someone who is just absolutely brilliant at everything and knows a lot, is capable of a lot, but just found something he liked to do that doesn’t pressure him to be that all the time. I think that in itself is pretty smart.”

“You say it like it’s on your list of things you don’t have in common, Syl,” he’d told her, barely able to contain a laugh.

“You’re right,” she’d smirked at him.

He looked at her now with his one good, open eye, mug against the other. “What'd he ask you about?”

“If you’d had anything bad to say about Saturday, if you were worried about next Saturday, if you’d said anything about him. It’s kind of cute, actually. I remember once seeing Hater like that at one of Awesome’s parties a while back, ‘round the time I started working at the store.”

“Did you tell him I said he was as sweet as porch tea?”

“I don’t recall,” she said, sipping at her mug.

“How about when I said he was a gentleman and a half?”

“Not sure.”

“Oh, cackleberry, Syl, _please_!” They giggled and chuckled, and then settled back on the movie for a bit. After about ten or fifteen minutes of watching it quietly, he asked, “Did he say anything about me?”

“Cripes, Wander, this might have been a mistake after all,” the zbornak said with a big grin.

They were both so beat that they simply crashed on the couch, the television left on a channel that was showing nature documentaries and the big blanket from Sylvia’s grandmother draped over the both of them, Wander having kicked off his shoes. But he slept fitfully. It wasn’t his eye, or his lip, but some of the thoughts that had followed him around all day, coalescing into an awful dream.

Sylvia had to wake him up.

There were muted infomercials on the t.v., washing the room in disorienting, flickering colors and light, and he felt over-heated and dizzy. Sylvia asked him what she could help him with at that moment and he shook his head and just sort of clung to her while his equilibrium settled. She lay there and pet him gently, like she would a cat, and hoped he wouldn’t get sick before he could make it to the bathroom, if he was going to be sick. He managed to curb the severity of the panic attack early; after a while she asked him again what she could help with, what he needed. With a soft sigh and a cough, he shook his head and buried his face against her. Sure, the strides he’d been making may have been bigger than big, but were they solid and stable? he wondered, finally able to focus on more than just his breathing and not bringing his dinner back up.

“It was her,” he mumbled. “I was dreaming about Janet.”


End file.
